Jewkes, acted in it!
I left off with letting you know how much I was pleased that I had one
night's reprieve added to my honesty. But I had less occasion to rejoice
than ever, as you will judge by what I have said already. Take, then,
the dreadful story, as well as I can relate it.
The maid Nan is a little apt to drink, if she can get at liquor; and Mrs.
Jewkes happened, or designed, as is too probable, to leave a bottle of
cherry-brandy in her way, and the wench drank some of it more than she
should; and when she came in to lay the cloth, Mrs. Jewkes perceived it,
and fell a rating at her most sadly; for she has too many faults of her
own, to suffer any of the like sort in any body else, if she can help it;
and she bid her get out of her sight, when we had supped, and go to bed,
to sleep off her liquor, before we came to bed. And so the poor maid
went muttering up stairs.
About two hours after, which was near eleven o'clock, Mrs. Jewkes and I
went up to go to bed; I pleasing myself with what a charming night I
should have. We locked both doors, and saw poor Nan, as I thought, (but,
oh! 'twas my abominable master, as you shall hear by and by,) sitting
fast asleep, in an elbow-chair, in a dark corner of the room, with her
apron thrown over her head and neck.
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